(A/N: Hiii there! I'm back from the dead! Sorry that it took me this long to update! I've made some major plot change since posting this story online and I've had to go back through some chapters and rewrite a lot of parts (parts I haven't posted online yet)! I appreciate the patience from you guys! And thank you so much for all of the reviews on the last chapter! You guys are the best!)

Ch. 9: (Bree)– Our Part of the Woods

"Hot d***, gal! You half-blind or somethin'?!"

I glance between the ticked off man I just tripped over and the bushes I just burst through. God only knows if those things are still chasing me or not. They could be just seconds away from lurching through the branches and leaves.

"Yo, Shaniqua! You got a hearin' problem?"

My teeth clench together when I hear the derogatory name come spilling out of this guy's mouth. I spin around, forgetting about the monsters for the time being, just so I can put this creep in his place. I was planning on being civil, but this guy just had to go there.

He looks like he's somewhere in his mid to early forties, with graying hair, a striking jaw speckled with stubble, and a pair of red-rimmed, aqua eyes. He's wearing a black leather vest over a dirty wifebeater and a pair of mucky jeans.

"You must have a problem with your brain if you're trying to go to sleep in the middle of a forest packed with infected people!" I snap.

"I wasn't sleeping, darlin'." The man spits the word "darling" out like it's made of battery acid and syrup. He rubs at his sleep-encrusted eyes and stifles a yawn. A moment later, he holds up his long rifle. "I was goin' huntin'," he explains. "Would of caught something too, if you weren't blazing through the forest like a wild monkey child on the loose!"

I poise my mouth to tell him off but something rustles in the bushes right then. A slimy Puppet crawls out from the forestry behind the man and starts limping towards him.

"Behind you!" I cry.

The man doesn't even flinch. In one fluid movement, he turns and pulls the trigger of his rifle. There's a loud bang before the creature's squishy head blows up like a firework made of blood. Its body crumples to the ground in a defeated heap and lies still.

He's… pretty good.

I watch in stunned silence as the man lowers his gun and spits at the slain monster near his feet. He chuckles loudly.

"Gotta be quicker'n that, ya dirty son of a gun!" he yells. He spits again and then rolls his eyes over to rest on me. His frown transforms into a cocky smirk.

"Now…what were you sayin', darlin'?" he asks.

I stand up a little straighter. I'll admit; I'm a little nervous now that I've seen his skills with a gun. My temperamental tongue has dried up and left me as weak and unsure of myself as always.

I rub at my arms, glance at the ground. "Nice shooting."

"Been practicin' nearly all of my life," he boasts. "Glad it's finally comin' to use on these dead son-of-a-guns." He pauses to draw circles in the air with his gun. "So, you gonna tell me what a kid like you is doing by herself in the middle of the woods?"

Not a kid, but I don't feel like arguing with a man holding a gun. Instead, I turn away from him and start walking in the opposite direction.

"Just passing through," I explain over my shoulder. "Just… just pretend you never saw me, okay?" After everything I just went through back at Sanctuary, getting mixed up with strangers is the last thing I want to do. Going forward by myself, unseen and unheard, is the safest choice.

"Whoa-ho, hold on there, gal!"

Quick as lightning, the older man somehow out-walks me and places himself directly in my path. He hooks his thumb in one of the belt loops on his jeans and tilts his chin up.

"What's your rush?" he asks. I take in his deep frown and the serious look in his sky-colored eyes. Trying to seem braver than I am, I sigh and cross my arms.

"Wh-what's the rush?" I repeat, almost unsurely. My trembling voice gives away how scared I really am, despite the tough demeanor I'm putting on. I don't want to get involved with this man or any other stranger. After Negan, I'm beginning to think that strangers may be worse than the undead.

Recalling the times I've been on stage for a play, I force my voice to go down an octave and twist my lips into an annoyed scowl. I clear my throat and try once again to seem as hard-a** as this guy.

"Those monsters are going to be here soon because of that gunshot," I grunt. "I'm getting out of here."

The man isn't fooled. "When someone says something like 'pretend you never saw me', it's usually 'cause they're hiding something." He leans closer to me. The bold stench of tobacco and alcohol hits me like a gust of wind. "You hiding something from ol' Merle, gal?" he whispers.

I fight away the urge to step away from him. Instead, I square my shoulders and look him up and down. "Who the hell are you? The gestapo? I'm just trying to get back to my camp. Now, get out of my way!"

"Merle" chuckles and spits by my shoe. "You ain't goin' nowhere, kid," he announces.

I recoil with disgust at the wad of tobacco near me and fix him with a sour grimace. I try again with the tough-girl approach, but facade is already starting to wane. "M-My people are looking for me. If they see you with me, they won't be happy."

"There ain't another camp around these parts," he explains, matter-of-factly. "My brother and I have been scouting through these woods for weeks and ain't come across another person. Tell me why you just so happen to be the first."

Darn it. He's smarter than he looks.

Doesn't look like I'm getting away from him without a fight. I take a few steps away from the man, hand already feeling around my waist for my knife.

"Just let me pass through," I plead. I'm letting the strong act go and instead go for the innocent pleading of a child. "I don't want any trouble."

"Well, you found it, Fun-Size, sneaking around here like some sort of wild animal!"

Merle is on me before I even have the chance to whip the blade out. The strong man spins me around to face away from, and twists my arm behind my back. I whimper in pain and try to pull out of his grip. This only causes the pain to intensify so I stop and simply start cursing at the man. The knife drops out of my hand and hits the grass.

"Let me go!" I scream.

"No can do, Sha-nay-nay." Merle's growling voice is right next to my ear. "You're too close to our part of the woods. You could be a thief or a murderer, huh? Now tell me why the hell you're here! You tryin' to steal our supplies?"

"I'm just a girl," I hiss back at him. "A girl looking for a family! Please, let me go!"

"Liar!" Merle roars.

"Merle!"

A new voice breaks into the forest clearing. A short, old man wearing what looks like a beige safari hat and khaki shorts storms up to us from out of the trees. The furry-faced grandpa quickly yanks me out of Merle's hands and pulls me over to him.

"You alright there?" he asks me. I can only nod stupidly at my rescuer. After scanning me over, Safari-Hat spins on Merle.

"What were you planning on doing to this young girl?" he demands.

Merle raises his arms out to the sides, a look of utter indignation on his face. "She's an intruder, old man! I was doing my rightful duty as an American to keep trespassers off of my property!"

"She's just a girl!" Safari-Hat snaps. "There's no need to treat her like she's a criminal!"

"Awright, grandpa, calm down! Don't get your knickers in a bunch!" Merle's attention comes back over to me. "We still need to take the little nigger in. She can't just wander off after seeing us!"

"We aren't a top secret organization, Merle. We're people, just like her," Safari-Hat declares. He looks back at me and his gaze softens somewhat. His grip on my shoulders tightens a bit. "I bet you're hungry, aren't you?"

Something about this kind, older man brings a sense of calmness over me. Even though I still don't trust them, especially not the Super Racist over there, I decide that I'll let my guard drop, just a little. The capped man doesn't seem to want to harm me and I see nothing but concern in his hazel eyes.

"….A little," I admit.

He smiles. "Well, we have just the remedy for that back at our place. I'm Dale, by the way. You think you can walk back with us? It's only a few minutes walk this way."

"I-I don't think that's a good idea." I remove the older man's hands from my shoulders and back away a little. "I don't…. I just want to keep moving, actually."

The two men share a look at one another. Dale steps towards me and I immediately step back. Noticing my movement, Dale decides to stop walking. He holds up his hands in a sign of peace.

"Look, you can trust us," he assures me. "We won't hurt you…anymore," he adds with a frown tossed Merle's way. Merle rolls his eyes and starts cursing up a storm. Both Dale and I ignore him.

"You seem really, really nice," I say, and I mean it. Dale seems like a great guy. He reminds me of my grandfather. But I don't know him. And I don't think I'll be able to step into another supposedly "safe camp" without remembering what happened back at Sanctuary.

"I'm looking for someone and I don't want to waste any more time," I finish. I smile at Dale, a crooked, hopeless thing that only lasts a few seconds on my dry lips. It vanishes instantly. I rub my arm and hope my eyes can convey the gratefulness that my mouth doesn't seem able to. "Thank you for your kindness, though. It really means a lot."

I turn on my heel and start heading for the trees again. As good as it felt to talk to people again, Merle is a perfect example of why I don't want to be around them anymore. People are unstable right now, myself included. I'm better off finding my family on my own.

Dale is distraught. I hear his heavy footfalls following behind me. "Maybe we have information on your missing people back at camp!" he tries. "We have food and medicine, too!"

I'm tempted to stop walking, but images of Harry's shattered skull push me forward. I feel guilty, though, since he's practically begging me. I hate to make someone as nice as he is worry.

"B-B-But, you're just a young girl!" Dale continues from behind me. "You can't wander around by yourself! Someone might try to hurt you!"

No sooner are the words out of his mouth when something large and heavy slams into the back of my head. I see stars, twinkling and glistening in my vision, and then I'm down on the ground.

I hear Dale cry out Merle's name as I lie there in the dirt, stars dancing in front of my eyes. Darkness begins to encroach upon my vision.

"Merle!" I hear Dale shout. "What have you done?"

The sound of Dale and Merle arguing follows me into sweet oblivion.

-T-W-D-T-W-D-

"Hey, I didn't see you back there. Enjoy the show?"

The papers that were in my lap fluttered down to the ground in a flurry of white. I looked up from my lap and found Professor Brigham smiling at me from the stage. I bit at my lip and managed a nod. Face burning, I scrambled to pick up my scattered notes and then stood to my feet.

"I-It was very interesting!" I raised my voice just enough so that he could hear my voice coming all the way from the back of the amphitheater. "I enjoyed it."

"Good to know!" Professor Brigham smiled at me and then gracefully leapt down from the stage,. I started feeling nervous when I saw that he was coming to where I was standing. I clutched my papers to my chest and prayed that my heart wouldn't fall out of my mouth. I never had the courage to talk to the young professor even though he was secretly my idol.

Only twenty-nine, Professor Brigham was one of the most popular professors on campus. He was funny and a little unorthodox, but it was one of my dreams to finally get the courage to audition in one of his plays. Every day after my classes were over, I would hurry to the amphitheater to catch his students practice for whatever play they were working on that semester. I was so jealous of Ava Blanchette, who usually was the starlet in every one of the plays. She was a magnificent actress, all but destined to one day be on Broadway or in movies.

I told myself that I would get up on that stage one day. I would surpass Ava Blanchette and become a great actress and even write my own screenplays. But that day never seemed to come. Instead, I found myself furiously scribbling notes on the actors while watching them perform from the very back of the amphitheater.

Professor Brigham finally made it back to me. Panting just slightly, the tall, lanky teacher wiped at his tan brow and grinned at me.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked.

I held the papers a little tighter to my chest. "Um, nothing really," I lied. "Just...stuff."

Mr. Brigham's laugh was infectious. "Doesn't look like 'nothing', the way you're holding onto them for dear life," he teased. I blushed and found myself smiling. Mr. Brigham smiled back and held out a hand. His warm, brown eyes made me feel a little more at ease.

"Mind if I take a look?" he asked.

I glanced between his hand and my papers. Finally, I handed them over. I watched nervously as the young professor flipped through my notes. I noticed that he didn't just skim over them. He actually read through them, sometimes mumbling words of agreement and noises of understanding.

When he finished, he didn't hand them back.

"These are amazing," he said.

I could feel my face heating up under his amazed stare. I looked down at the red flats I was wearing that day.

"It's just some things I noticed the actors and actresses doing and I thought if they tweaked some of their lines and actions, it might flow a little better," I explained.

Professor Brigham nodded. He stared at my notes a moment longer and then looked up at me.

"How would you like to be my new assistant?" he asked with a glimmer of excitement dancing in his blue eyes. "I think a position just opened."

-T-W-D-T-W-D-

The world comes back to me in bits and pieces, like a mosaic. It's a mash-up of cracks and broken chips, a disarray of colors and patterns that don't make any sense. I push out a groan and lean my head back. My head hits something long and thin and pole-like. I blink away my pain and finally, the world starts to make sense to me. Color washes over my broken vision, filling in the cracks like paint.

I'm in a tent.

I try to move my wrists but they are bound together tightly to the pole that's jutting against my spine. Oh no. I've been kidnapped.

As much as I want to start crying and hyperventilating, I know that won't get me out of here. I've got to toughen up and get out of here before someone decides to come in and check on me.

Pulling against my restraints bears no fruit so I look for another route of escape. The tent is empty, save for myself. It's a basic tent, made of little more than a piece of tarp and a few strong sticks. Realizing that what I'm tied to must be one of the sticks, I start to rock backwards. My back slams against the stick over and over. I can feel the stick starting to give away from the dirt it's jammed into. I smile victoriously and continue to hit at it with my back. If I move quick enough, I'll be up and out of here before the people who kidnapped me return.

Old, kind man, my foot. That old geezer and his raunchy friend kidnapped me. I knew I should have just kept running when I ran into that blue-eyed creep. You can't trust strangers anymore, you can't, you can't, you-

"What the hell you think you're doin', gal?"

I stop banging my back into the pole long enough to look up. Speak of the devil-the blue-eyed creep is back.

Merle stands at the entrance of the tent, seeming ready to beat the crap out of me. I resume my back-beating with even more vehemency. Merle strides towards me, squats down, and seizes my chin, forcing me to stop all movement. He squeezes tightly, causing my lips to pucker up. I glare at him, too angry and scared to even speak.

His squinted eyes don't move away from mine, not for a second. "Even if you escape, won't do ya no good. We got the place surrounded with sentries on all sides," Merle warns in his dry, scratchy voice. When I don't say anything, the corner of his mouth lifts. He chuckles. "Aw, you mad, Fun-Size? Shouldn't have been sneakin' around our parts."

"That's enough, Dixon."

Both Merle and I turn around to get a glimpse of the new entrant to the tent. A man I've never seen before stares back at us. I can tell immediately that he's in charge of this place that I've been brought to. He's got alpha male written all over him.

Seeming agitated, the new man rakes a hand through his load of curly, black hair and eyes Merle.

"I got 'er from here, alright? You can go back outside with others. I think your brother wanted you," he says. It sounds more like an order than a suggestion. Merle regards me with a snarky grin and then stands back up to his full height. He saunters out of the room with his eyes trained on the younger man the whole time. The other man doesn't bat an eye until Merle has exited the tent. Once he's gone, the man turns around and faces me.

"How you holdin' up, sweetheart?" he asks.

I pull at my restraints frantically but stop and look away once he begins to walk closer to me. I stare at the area between my feet, trying my hardest not to seem afraid. I can feel my heart thump-thump-thumping against my chest like the bass I used to love to have turned all the way up in my old car, the one my mom bought me when I started college.

What I wouldn't do to go back to the way things were before the world fell over on its side.

"Hey," I hear the man say. His voice is gentle and calming. I don't know why, but I get the feeling that he's had experience in talking to people in similar situations as I am.

I slowly look up at the man. He's squatting down in front of me now, arms balanced on his thighs. His face is near mine, but not close enough for me to feel too uncomfortable. At this distance, he seems slightly less intimidating.

"You don't gotta be afraid of us," he assures me. "We ain't gonna hurt you, I promise."

I move my wrists a little more but finally, I give up on the notion of escape. I'm not going anywhere. Resigned to whatever fate these new people have for me, I decide to just listen to what he has to say.

"What's your name?" the man asks.

I bite my lip to keep from answering. I doubt that names and identities hold that much power anymore but there's no point in risking it. Who knows-these people could be in league with Negan. One slip of the tongue and they could have me shipped right back to him.

"I'm Shane Walsh," the man says, once he sees that I'm not talking. "I used to be a police officer before all of this craziness went down."

Police officer. Yep, he makes a lot more sense to me now. The authoritative tone in his light voice, the way his dark brows stay in two thick, serious lines, and the unmistakable manners of a guy used to playing "good cop, bad cop"-they all point to someone in the force.

I just hope he stays in his "good cop mode".

Shane Walsh waits for a moment, waiting for me to say something. When I decline to speak, he chuckles.

"Southern customs say that this is the part where you give me your name," he explains.

I shuffle my feet together. Should I really give this guy my name? If he travels with people like Merle, I can't say that I'm too convinced of his trustworthiness.

"I'm... Ava," I lie. I just spit out the first name that came to me. "Ava Evans."

"Ava, huh?" Shane smiles. "Cute name. You got a family or a group you're traveling with, Ava?"

I decide to answer truthfully this time. I've already got a heavy enough conscience as it is.

My eyes drop down to the cross pendant resting at the center of my collarbone. "No. I'm alone."

Shane nods his head, seeming to understand my circumstances without me saying a word. He stands back to his full height suddenly. I have to crane my neck to see his face since he's standing at a close distance.

My eyes widen when I see him pull out a pocket knife, my pocket knife to be exact. He flicks out the blade.

Just as a scream starts to work its way up my throat, Shane walks behind me. There's a few, slight tugging motions against my wrists and then suddenly, they're free.

I pull my hands in front of me and study them. Although the rope left deep crevices around the wrist area, everything else seems to be in good order. I flex my dirty fingers in front of my face and then glance over my shoulder.

Shane smiles back at me. He holds out the knife.

"I believe this belongs to you."

Hesitantly, I take the knife from his hand and slowly slide it back into the pocket of my jeans.

"What's going on?" I ask, still wary of the officer and his plans. "You're letting me go?"

"Nah, even better. I'm letting you stay."

CR: Shane, Merle, Dale! You're all here! *hugs them tightly and sobs uncontrollably* Finally!

Dale: Poor girl. I hate to say it, but this girl might be a loony!

Shane: *busy shaving his head*

Merle: 'Bout time I showed up. I was fixin' to unfollow this story!

CR: Aww, but if you would have did that, you wouldn't be able to see all the cool stuff coming up in the story! Like zombie herds! Romance! Cannibals! And Daryl Dixon!

Merle: Who wants to read about my sissy of a brother?

CR: More people than you know, Merle. More people than you know. *hides Daryl Dixon fangirl items*

Anyway! I so hope you all enjoyed this chapter after the long wait! I'm really busy right now so I can't put an exact date on when the next chapter will be out but the wait won't be as long as it took last time! :) Hope you all have an awesome, blessed day! :D